


Merry Christmas, Bitches

by hopelessbookgeek



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 19:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2785520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessbookgeek/pseuds/hopelessbookgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That one AU where the guys all live together in one big house, and this time they're celebrating Christmas. Based off the Christmas episode of "Let's Play Minecraft", and while not explicitly OT6, I suppose it can be read that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Bitches

**Author's Note:**

> All I can add is this glowing review from my boyfriend: "so cute I wanna fist a snowman". Hope you enjoy!

Geoff seemed like the kind of guy to sleep in on Christmas. He slept in on every other weekend or holiday, because why the fuck wouldn’t he, and so the other guys weren’t expecting much. They sure as hell weren’t expecting him to saunter slowly down the halls with a wooden spoon in one hand and a frying pan in the other making a truly ungodly racket. “Alright, assholes, wake the fuck up!”

Ryan was the first to poke his head around the door, eyes narrowed with sleep and with irritation. “Geoff, shut up. It’s Christmas. It’s too early for this.”

“You’re damn right it is! Merry Christmas, bitches! Gavin and I planned shit for today so you better get up and get in the shower before Jack takes all the hot water. Besides, it’s ten o’clock.”

There was a grumble from Jack’s bedroom and a loud groan from Michael’s, but otherwise no more dissent. Geoff smiled to himself and went back downstairs. There were worse ways to spend Christmas.

Gavin, as expected, was the first one downstairs, hair messy in a way he insisted was intentional. “G’mornin’, Geoff!” he chirped, and Geoff nodded.

“Mornin’, Gav. Others comin’?”

“Michael was arguing with Jack over the shower. Ryan looked like he wasn’t going to bother. Ray’s still in bed.”

There was a loud thump from upstairs and a shout from Ray. Less than ten seconds later, the toilet flushed and Michael bellowed “for Christ’s sake Jack!” Gavin looked at Geoff in a sort of can you believe these people? way, and Geoff nodded in somewhat tired assention.

Ryan trotted down the stairs next, whistling “O Little Town of Bethlehem” to himself. It would have been a fairly normal sight but for Ray, with no glasses and in his pajama pants, thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Morning, guys,” he said as if nothing were weird about it, and dumped Ray on one of the barstools in the kitchen.

“Uh, good morning, Ray,” Gavin said tentatively. Ray dropped his head on the counter and groaned. “What did you do to him, Ryan?”

“Geoff told us to come down. He didn’t want to.”

“Ryan’s gonna be the one in the hole in about ten minutes,” Ray mumbled into the granite.

Still, Ray did eventually drudge himself upstairs to at least put jeans and a sweatshirt on, and by the time he was done, Jack and Michael were down as well, staring Geoff down. It must have been happening for a while, Ray guessed, because Geoff looked very uncomfortable.

“So, Christmas?” he said to break the silence, and Gavin broke out in the most goddamn ridiculous eight-year-old’s grin and Michael had to shake his head good-naturedly.

“Christmas,” Geoff confirmed, mirroring Gavin’s grin, which, to be honest, was a little weird given his age. “Gav and I did a lot of decorating while you losers were sleeping, so if you’ll follow me…” He led them out of the kitchen and into the living room, and they all just sort of stopped and gasped.

They were aware that their house was big. They were aware that it had a high ceiling. Even so they were unprepared for the sheer size of the Christmas tree taking up about a third of the place, wrapped in streamers and lights and ornaments with a big honkin’ Tower of Pimps on the top. There was one big line of tinsel from the tree to the opposite wall. “Christ, that’s a big tree,” Ryan said, blinking.

“Where’s the Kwanzaa thing?” Ray said, and Geoff sighed.

Michael pointed at the tinsel. “What the fuck is that?”

“Oh.” Gavin looked a little embarrassed. “I, ah, wanted to do tinsel, but after one string it was too much work so I gave up.”

“It looks like the tree is attacking the wall.”

“Looks like the tree is licking the wall,” Ray threw in, adding a few somewhat disgusting noises to get his point across.

“Okay, well, just wanted to show you guys the tree before anything else,” Geoff said. “Don’t you dare touch the presents under there, those are for later. I thought you guys might want to do some Christmas-themed activities first!”

“Geoff, please. Not outside.”

“Shut up, Ray. How does sledding sound?”

The others made sounds of relative agreement, and pushed around each other trying to shove their boots and coats on. There was a little hill in the backyard and Gavin and Geoff had placed a handful of sleds there for exactly this.

“Oh, look at that!” Jack pointed at the tiny, icy ramp Gavin had built in the middle of the track.

“It’s for more airspeed, Jack. Absolutely gnarly,” Gavin replied, and Jack laughed.

They took turns going down the hill with Michael and Gavin insisting on pushing each other. Ryan accidentally let a sled go without him and looked all the sadder for it. The wind whipped Michael’s curls into a frenzy and stained Ray’s cheeks red, but Ryan’s laughter was wild and raucous and Geoff was flicking snow crystals into Jack’s beard to see if he would notice (he did, but he acted like he didn’t). It was like they were all ten years old, where every winter was something brand-new and they had no responsibilities but to themselves. This was especially true of when Gavin tried to adjust himself on Michael’s shoulders so they could vault the ramp on the same tiny sled with a cry of “Team Christmas Dynamite!”. Needless to say, before they even got to the ramp, Michael tumbled over and Gavin flew through the air, landing hard on his elbows and chin. He sat up slowly, wincing a little and touching his face. “I think my nose broke my fall!” he called incredulously, and Geoff had to sit down from laughing too hard.

Jack took advantage of this momentary weakness to throw a snowball at him. “Payback, asshole!” It hit Geoff in the neck and he shrieked. He tried his best to throw one back but he was a sitting duck and Jack dodged easily. When he ducked, however, he didn’t consider that Ray was behind him, and he got the full brunt of it right in the face.

“Geoff, please, I’m allergic to water,” he shouted.

“How do you shower?” Gavin called back.

“I don’t. Ever.” He probably could have still hit Geoff back, but he tried doing a three-sixty first, and then the snowball landed on Ryan’s chest, and then it was war. Man on man, to each his own, and Ryan was merciless. His aim was weak but his snowballs were huge, and because he was a “mongy bitch” as Gavin called it he snuck ice chunks in. He was lucky he never got anyone in the face.

It probably went on for half an hour before they all ganged up on Ryan and he high-tailed it back into the house, Geoff and Michael bellowing war cries behind him. Still, by the time they were back inside, melting snow dripping from eyelashes and facial hair, they were smiling, and Ryan was laughing through trying to catch his breath.

They shed their wet clothes and sat down in the kitchen again, but this time Geoff made hot cocoa and passed out cookies. “Whoa, these are legit,” Michael said after a bite, looking down at the cookie. “Like, not boxed. Who’d you steal them from?”

“Gav made ‘em,” Geoff said, hands up to avoid that responsibility, and Michael’s eyebrows shot up. The warmth of the kitchen was making his cheeks red, hiding his freckles.

“Yeah, so what,” he mumbled under his breath, but Michael thanked him and he smiled. Jack ate four, Ray ate an unreasonable eight (“I don’t look it, but I’m three hundred pounds under here,” he said), and Ryan picked his apart in an experiment to see if he could successfully separate the chips from the dough (he could not). Geoff and Gavin pretended to vomit up whole cookies, complete with sound effects.

“Aw, Geoff, I’m tossing my cookies,” Gavin laughed.

“Pretty impressive you’re able to throw up whole cookies,” Ray said.

“Hey, do you guys want to go out and make snowmen?” Geoff suggested.

“Absolutely,” Michael said, at the same time Ryan said “absolutely not”. Michael shrugged and dragged Gavin outside to make one together. The others held cocoa in cold hands and watched through the wide kitchen window as Michael carefully crafted a snowman. Gavin even helped, but an hour later, as soon as it was done, Gavin ran off and then came back and dove onto the snowman, utterly razing it to the ground. Michael looked as though he was yelling (though the others couldn’t hear him) and tackled Gavin into what remained of the snowman.

“Gavin’s a piece of work,” Jack said with a shake of his head.

“He’s a piece of shit, you mean,” Geoff says, and Ryan merely watches as Michael rubs Gavin’s head into the snow.

A few hours later, the sun was setting, and they were all relaxing from their energetic day. Michael and Gavin actually stayed outside for a while, making snowmen and then gleefully destroying them (with Michael’s permission, of course). While the other four had long since abandoned the window, Michael claimed Gavin made a snow-woman, then tried to put his dick in her mouth. Gavin vehemently denied it, but he did sit down a little tenderly.

They were all clustered in the living room around the fireplace, lit up with a roaring blaze that Ryan had set and Jack had nurtured when it turned out that Ryan couldn’t tend a fire to save his life. The tree’s lights were glittering and the ornaments were glowing from the fire’s reflection. They’d all, somehow or another, ended up in pajamas– Michael in boxers and a t-shirt, Geoff in flannel pants and a bathrobe, Jack wearing two-piece pajamas with corgis on them (shamelessly), and the other three in t-shirts and comfortable pants. Ray’s hair was freshly scrubbed and shone like onyx. Gavin’s eyes reflected the Christmas lights.

It was time for presents. They decided to go in order of age, and so Ray, being the youngest, was handed his first. “Who the hell wrapped this?” he asked, pointing at the loose strand of tape flying off.

“Geoff and me, last night! We thought you guys would want something nice to wake up to!” Gavin said proudly, and at that point he looked so happy that Ray didn’t say anything more on the shoddy wrapping.

“Feliz Navidad?” he read off the tag. “I can’t read this. I can’t read.”

“It’s– it’s cause you’re Hispanic,” Michael stage-whispered.

“Oh, so know it’s like fuckin’… segregation over here.” He pulled the wrapping off. Inside was a small pipe and a pile of fake roses. He held up the pipe, realized what it was for, and said, “just blaze,” but so fast that it came out sounding more like “juhbluh”. He scattered the roses over himself like a blanket.

“See, Ray, now you can blaze all year ‘round,” Geoff said, and Ray thanked him with a grin.

“Now me!” Gavin said, and Geoff handed him something. He tugged the paper off (completely missing the “Santa Loves You” tag; Ryan would find it later and laugh) and went quiet for a minute.

“Please be dildos, please be dildos,” Michael whispered under his breath, but instead Gavin pulled out a picture frame and just looked at it quietly for a while.

Jack was the first to look over– climbing over Ray in the process. “Oh, it’s your parents!” he said, and Geoff nodded.

“Thought you might miss them while you’re here, so, I dunno. Whatever.” It was somewhat characteristic of him to get all mushy and then hand wave it away as nothing. Gavin was determined not to let him get away with it, and gave Geoff a quick but sweet hug. Geoff accepted it graciously. “Okay, it’s Michael’s turn.”

“’Ho Ho Ho Michael’?” he read out.

“What are the chances that it’s filled with hoes?” Ray asked, but then Michael pulled a goddamn sword out of the box and Ray backed away. “Whoa, Jesus!”

“Jesus only wishes he looked this rad, Ray.” Michael swung it. “Calm down, it’s plastic. Still looks cool as hell though. Can I use it? Can I try it out right now? Can I, can I?”

“Michael, hit me with it!” Gavin volunteered, and when Michael swung the sword at him, he pretended to go flying backwards, and they both laughed.

“Team Nice Dynamite needs to get a room here,” Ryan murmured to Jack, who chuckled.

“Okay, now who’s younger, Jack or Ryan?” Geoff asked, and they both looked at each other.

“Uh… I don’t know,” Ryan said, and so Geoff pointed to Jack.

“Jack. I think it’s you. Go for it.”

“’Do Not Eat Until X-Mas’,” he read off the box in Geoff’s shaky handwriting. “Oh, God, what is this?” He opened it, and yep, it was food, the kind that could be safely stored in a box: beef jerky and other cured meats, but also nuts, candy, and Cheez-Its.

“There’s not a vegetable in sight, buddy,” Geoff said, and Jack thanked him.

“You know me well, Geoff. Ryan, I guess it’s you now.”

“Alright. Hey, why don’t I get a fancy tag?”

“Cause we like you least,” Geoff said. Ryan turned the bag upside down, and literal dozens of tiny Beany Babies fell out of farmyard animals. “All the animals you could ever need.”

“I told you, I don’t find animals, they find me.” He let the stuffed toys run through his fingers like sand, and even though he made fun of Geoff and Gavin for the gift, later he would line them up neatly on a shelf in his bedroom and name them all. He started sorting them by type of animal (there sure were a lot of cows) while Geoff opened his present, from Gavin.

He pulled out a mixology book and a bottle of tequila. “Aw, thanks Gav!” he said with genuine affection. “I can get drunk on Christmas!”

“And isn’t that what the holiday is really about?” Jack said. “I think Jesus said the same thing once.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Ryan said. “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is getting drunk for all to hear.”

“Something like that.”

Gavin stopped messing around with Michael and waved to get their attention. “Guys! Do you want to get a picture by the tree for Christmas?”

“God. Okay. Let me get my camera.” Geoff reluctantly set down the book (though not the tequila) and got up to find the tripod. It took a few minutes, but eventually they were all posed by the tree, the timer was ready, and Michael was holding his sword.

“Should we do like a jumping freeze-frame?” Gavin suggested.

“A jumping freeze-frame?” Ryan repeated. “Every photograph is a freeze-frame!”

“Right, but we should jump for this one!”

“Ready?” Geoff said. “One, two, three!”

They all jumped. When they looked at the picture later, they all noticed Michael had jumped a second too early, and was back on the ground by the time the picture snapped. They didn’t bother to redo it. For them, it was the best Christmas picture they could have gotten.


End file.
